by Cynthia Eden
Time to take out two sinners.
The smoke billowed, and Rogziel stalked toward the motel. The only humans around worked for him. His team—one that he’d ordered to seek cover in the nearby woods. All the innocents were gone.
Suffer, sinners, suffer.
The blast had blown Sam out of the motel room. He lay in the parking lot, some of his flesh torn away. His clothes burned as he pushed himself to his feet. He stared at the wreckage and screamed, “Seline!”
Interesting. Another way to punish.
Rogziel flew forward. “She won’t walk away from that.” Not weak Seline.
Sam’s head whipped toward him. The smoke and fire had covered Rogziel’s scent, just as he’d planned, and Sam hadn’t even been aware that the true threat was so close. Rogziel saw the fury in the Fallen’s eyes, and he said, “She won’t walk away, and neither will you.”
“Fuck you!” Sam tossed a ball of fire his way.
The ball withered to smoke before it could touch Rogziel’s skin.
He expected another attack. Instead, Sam whirled and rushed back toward that burning building.
Rogziel frowned. The Fallen thought to save someone? Now that was surprising. He hadn’t anticipated this sacrifice.
Pity it was too late for Sam to atone.
Before Sam could rush straight into the flames, Az appeared in the smoke. His arms cradled a too-still Seline.
How perfect. He should have known that Azrael would kill her.
Sam roared and lunged for his brother.
The Fallen didn’t understand that rage made them weak, even as it made his little pet hungry. The beast was close now. Just minutes away. Soon it would burst free and feed.
Seline coughed.
Rogziel stopped smiling.
The smoke was choking her, and the arms around her were way too tight. Seline blinked her streaming eyes. “Ease up, Sam. We’re out, it’s—”
Sam wasn’t holding her. Someone was yelling. Fire crackled, and Az held her in his arms.
“You’re safe,” he whispered, and she realized that his clothes were smoldering.
In the next instant, she wasn’t in his arms any longer. Sam had her. Yeah, thanks for the too-late rescue. Sam shoved her behind his body. “Run,” he ordered as he faced off against Az.
She glanced around. She hadn’t been burned because Az had protected her with his body. He saved me. That just didn’t jive with the story she’d been given. A crazy psycho wouldn’t care about protecting her. “Sam, wait!”
Something was very wrong. Two fire attacks, and she was sure neither had come from Az.
Sam sent a blast of energy at Az, and the Fallen flew back into the fire. Sam spared her a brief glance over his shoulder. “Rogziel is here, and you need to run.”
She stumbled back. Her gaze swept around the parking lot. She didn’t see Rogziel, but since the bastard could fly, he could be anywhere.
Az shot out of the fire and barreled into Sam. Power crackled in the air as they tossed psychic attacks at each other. They rolled on the ground, and a deep crevice appeared beneath them.
Too much power.
Lightning crashed between them.
Not right. “Stop!” She wasn’t running. Where would she run to? If she ran, she’d probably rush straight into Rogziel.
Sam and Az didn’t hear her. Or if they did, they just ignored her. Sam had his hands around Az’s throat, and he lifted his brother up high—then tossed him about twenty feet.
The flames flickered. The scent of smoke burned her nose. Smoke and . . . wait. That wasn’t the normal smell of fire. That scent was more like—
Brimstone.
Once you smelled hell, you never forgot it.
She spun around. The lightest scent of flowers tangled with the brimstone. She knew what that light, sweet scent meant. An angel was close.
Rogziel had appeared in the middle of the parking lot. His wings, black, strong, and powerful, stretched behind him.
He wasn’t alone. At his side, a real-live freaking monster crouched. It wasn’t a wolf. It was bigger. Triple the size of any wolf shifter she’d ever seen. Its fur was thick and black and matted. One long streak of white fur cut across its right eye. Its fangs were longer than her hands. Its claws were like thick butcher knives digging into the ground, and its eyes—eyes locked not on her but on Sam—were blood red.
Redder than any fire in hell.
Rogziel patted the beast on its back. Then Rogziel lifted one of his bony fingers and pointed right at Sam.
No. “Sam! Behind you!”
He whirled around, and she knew he’d caught sight of the creature. His body tensed, and she was pretty sure he said, “Shit,” but then Rogziel turned that bony finger toward her. No . . . no, he was targeting her! Telling the weird beast to—
“Attack.” Rogziel’s screamed command drowned out everything else.
The beast charged at her. It moved so fast that its legs blurred. She turned away and tried to run, but the fire waited in front of her.
She spun to the left. There were woods that way. The ground was actually shaking as the beast pounded after her.
“Seline!” Sam was there. He grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him, using his body as a shield.
Too late.
The beast grabbed him. The animal’s thick fangs sank into Sam’s arm, then, using that painful grip, the hound tossed Sam away like some kind of rag doll. Blood littered the ground in his wake. “No!” Seline screamed. What the hell was happening? What was that thing?
The beast’s attention was on Sam now. Sam rose to his feet. The gashes on his arm went all the way to the bone.
No mortal weapon can kill a Fallen.
But she wasn’t looking at a mortal weapon, and Rogziel was laughing. The punisher had planned too well.
A setup. From the beginning. A setup.
The creature lunged for Sam again. Its teeth were heading straight for Sam’s throat.
Sam threw a ball of fire at the beast. The flames hit the animal but just dissolved right into its dark fur.
Then the animal got even bigger.
“Fuck, a hellhound,” Sam snarled.
Hellhound?
The beast slammed its paws into Sam’s chest.
Seline stopped just standing there like a scared scream queen. She grabbed the hound’s tail and yanked as hard as she could.
The hound howled and snapped at her, taking those deadly teeth away from Sam’s throat.
Rogziel just watched and laughed.
“Leave him alone!” she yelled. Where was Az? She didn’t dare look away from the hound, not with those teeth so close to tearing into her.
Sam’s hands flew out. He grabbed the hound’s neck and snapped. She knew that crack meant the hound’s neck had been broken. She jumped back as the heavy body collapsed.
Sam pushed the hound to the ground. “We don’t have much time,” he told her even as his gaze flew around the lot. She saw his stare lock on something to the right.
She followed his gaze—Az. Rising slowly, frowning.
A low growl rumbled near her feet. Seline looked down. No way. The hound had been dead.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Rogziel taunted.
Bones snapped back into place. The beast rose slowly, rolling its neck back into position with a crack that chilled her blood.
Can’t kill it.
Its claws swiped out and tore open Sam’s side.
Then the beast turned that hellfire stare on her.
“You’d better, run, Seline,” Rogziel called out. “This time, my pet is going after you. Get ready to see your daddy, little demon.”
What she saw was her death, burning in the hound’s eyes.
She didn’t have time to move. The beast leapt up, and its paws slammed into her chest. The hound took her to the ground, trapping her with its huge body. Its fangs snapped toward her throat. She could smell brimstone, ash, and death.
“He
ll’s waiting, Seline!” Rogziel called out.
In the hound’s eyes, she saw that hell.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Seline shoved her hands against the beast’s body. It was heavy and hot and—
It licked her.
Her breath rasped out as she pushed against it. She couldn’t get the thing to budge. It was too big. Its breath smelled of death, and she knew the thing was going to rip open her throat at any moment.
The beast licked her again. Then it whined low in its throat.
What?
The hound wasn’t attacking. Not ripping and tearing out her throat.
Rogziel’s laughter had stopped. Now he was shouting, calling out for the beast to kill, but the hound wasn’t hurting her.
Why?
The hound’s head rose and it stared down at her. Its breath was horrid. The creature’s face was like a nightmare, but it looked up at her like—like it was her pet.
Hellhound.
Whispers and half-forgotten stories floated through her mind.
“Get off me,” she told the beast quietly. “Be a good, um, hound, and get up.”
The beast whined but actually began to shift its body as if it were going to rise.
Her breath expelled. Maybe I am like my mom.
The hound flew through the air . . . because Sam had just grabbed the beast by the tail and yanked it away from her.
Maybe not.
Seline pushed to her feet. Sam grabbed her arm.
“Sammael!” Not Rogziel’s scream this time. Az’s. The Fallen was racing toward them.
Sam pulled her closer. “Don’t be afraid.”
Way too late for that. She had hellhound saliva on her neck.
Sam started chanting. It sounded like Greek—no, Latin. Then smoke swirled around them, closing tighter, tighter, rising ...
Seline screamed.
And the world disappeared.
“No!” Rogziel bellowed as Sam and Seline vanished.
The Fallen shouldn’t have been able to escape, not without—magic. His eyes narrowed. Trust Sammael to be dealing with the witches. But at least he still had one sinner to punish.
Az stumbled to a stop in the middle of the charred earth. The hound rose to its feet.
Rogziel said. “It’s nothing personal, Azrael.” He’d known the Fallen for centuries. “But the job has to be done, you understand that.”
Az blinked slowly. “Rogziel.”
“You knew I’d come for you sooner or later.” Not too long ago, Azrael had been an angel with power. Now he was just another Fallen on the road to hell. Rogziel sighed. “Unfortunately, your death won’t be quick. You didn’t earn that mercy.”
Az straightened his shoulders. No wings. Pity. What did that feel like? To be stripped of everything you were and cast out?
Rogziel pointed to the Fallen. The hellhound’s ears perked at the signal. Rogziel nodded and said, “Prey.” The hound would understand and attack.
The beast whined.
Rogziel frowned. He glared at the hellhound. “Prey.”
The hound hurried forward but didn’t attack. The beast put its nose against the charred ground and sniffed. Then its body stiffened, and it looked to the right.
Ah, now Rogziel understood. The hound had caught the scent. Sam and Seline hadn’t truly vanished. They’d just moved too fast for even his eyes to track, but the hound would be able to track them. “Kill him first,” Rogziel ordered, “then we’ll hunt the others.” Power flowed in his voice. Hellhounds always obeyed their masters.
The hound turned its head toward Rogziel. The beast’s lip curled back to reveal bloody teeth. Took a good bite out of Sammael. No wonder the beast caught the Fallen’s scent so easily.
But then the hound leapt up—and raced away from the parking lot. Away from Azrael.
Impossible. “No! Come back!” The hound couldn’t get too far away or it would—
Vanish. The hound disappeared in a flash of smoke. The hound could only take substance when it was near a punishment angel. Otherwise, it was just a nightmare with no power or form.
The roar of an engine reached Rogziel’s ears. He spun back, too late. Az plowed a motorcycle right into him. Rogziel flipped and slammed into the ground. Az drove away, spewing gravel in his wake.
Rage burned in Rogziel’s gut, dark and ugly, twisting within him. They will all suffer . . . they will beg for death, then hell will claim them.
When the smoke cleared, Seline was still screaming. Sam’s ears ached, and nausea rolled in his belly. The next time he bought a transport spell from Mateo, he’d make sure he read all the warning labels.
“It’s okay,” he told Seline, “you’re safe.”
She stopped screaming. Her eyes narrowed, and she slugged him.
He took the hit on the chin, figuring he deserved that one.
“You set me up!”
True. He tasted blood in his mouth. “I needed to draw out Az.”
“Well, you did, and we both almost died.” She yanked away from him. “Where the hell are we?”
Not safe. Not yet. “The spell dropped us about fifty miles away.” His lips twisted. “Mateo refers to it as his get-the-fuck-away spell.”
Maybe he’d use it again. Maybe. The spell had sure worked at getting them free from Rogziel.
Handy.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded as his gaze swept over her.
“No. It didn’t bite me.”
He frowned at her. The hound had been so close to her.
She glared right back at him. “Did you say ‘spell’? What kind of spell?”
“A transport spell.”
Her eyes slit a bit. “I don’t like spells.”
“Well, you would have liked dying even less.” They could bitch and moan all day, or they could get moving.
They were on the side of an old, dusty road. No one was to the left, no one was to the right. No one, nothing.
Seline suddenly stiffened. She glanced over her left shoulder. “Did you hear that?”
He hadn’t heard a thing. “What?”
“It sounded like . . .” She sidled a bit closer to him. “A growl.”
Fuck. Yes, that would bring them to their next order of business—right after they got out of there. “Come on.” He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and started walking. Blood pumped from his wounds, but he could already feel the torn muscle and skin beginning to mend. Since he was away from the hound, he could heal.
Hellhound. Rogziel had certainly pulled out the big guns this time.
Their shoes crunched over the gravel that littered the side of the road. “You . . . left Az back there,” she said, her voice hesitant.
He grunted. “I thought he might enjoy tangling with the mutt.”
Still no sign of cars.
“But . . .” He heard the soft inhalation of her breath. “That was your chance, right? Your shot to kill him?”
His gaze slanted to her.
“You left me as bait.” Spoken without inflection. Her gaze was on the road stretching ahead. “So you could get him.”
His stomach knotted. No, that weird twist was just from the healing wounds, and not from any kind of guilt. The claws had scraped down his chest and ripped into his stomach. “I was watching you the whole time.”
She stopped walking but still didn’t look at him. “Well, you sure took your sweet time coming to save me!”
“I got shot!” Four times. “I came as soon as I could.” As soon as the human died. But the guy had been a sharpshooter, and it had taken a few precious moments to get touching close.
An old pickup truck rattled up the road. Yes.
“Az didn’t start that fire,” Seline said.
Her words pissed him off. “So now you’re defending him?” The truck was closing in. Sam stalked to the middle of the road. The better to stop the truck.
“He saved me.” Quiet, confused. She didn’t follow him, but instead waited on the side, lookin
g a bit lost. “If it hadn’t been for him, I would have burned.”
His jaw clenched. “The blast threw me out. I didn’t—I didn’t leave you.” He’d been ready to race back in and fight the fire for her, but Az had beat him to the punch.
So the bastard had done one good thing. Now I owe him for that.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
The rattle of the truck should have drowned out her words. It didn’t. He heard her far too clearly.
He heard her, but he just didn’t answer her.
The pickup was slowing down. Sam caught sight of the man driving. Older, thinning, gray hair, rounded shoulders.
He could almost smell the fear rolling off the guy. But then, the man’s truck was being blocked by a blood-soaked Fallen. Smart folks would be afraid in that situation.
“Az told me what you did.” Seline’s voice was so quiet. “He said you just . . . slaughtered. That it was why you fell.”
Fury spiked, but Sam lifted his hands and focused on the driver. Az, dammit, you always twist the truth so well.
“He said you fell because you killed—you killed and you wouldn’t stop.”
“I told you the truth already. You believe whoever the fuck you want.”
The truck’s engine idled. Their voices had been too low for the driver to hear. The driver’s side door squeaked as the man rolled down his window. “No quiero apuro, hombre.”
Sam nodded. The guy was saying he didn’t want any trouble. Too bad he’d found some.
The fellow wasn’t a demon, and he didn’t have the look of a shifter. He just seemed . . . human.
Sam eyed the truck. “I’ll give you five hundred American dollars for the truck,” he said in Spanish.
“You got the cash on you?” the guy fired right back, in English.
Yes, luckily, he did. One thing he’d learned, money talked in the human world, so Sam always made sure he was well stocked. He pulled out his wallet. The leather stuck a bit, courtesy of the fire. He waved the bills in the air. “Right here. ”
The guy smiled, then he lifted his right hand—the hand that was holding a weapon. “Then put it down, cabron, and walk away with the puta, or I’ll put more holes in you.”
